Legend of Jaeden
by Spencerdoodl
Summary: 12 years after the events of Inheritance, the new Order of Dragon Riders. Eggs are hatching and joining Eragon in the realm of Nyr Verold.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 **A/N: This is during when the elves sacked Gil'ead in Brisinger.**

Gerard ran through the streets, the buildings and memories crumbling around him. As he dodged crumbling houses, Gil'ead had fallen, and though he ran to the walls, he knew it was hopeless. He could hear the screams of pain and horror as his fellow soldiers were overwhelmed by the pointed eared demons. He yanked his sword from his scabbard. " _I'll kill them for_ _Marna and little_ _Jaeden."_

As he neared the walls, he saw a man falling from them. He ignored him and charged up to the stairs that gave access to the walls. He sprinted up the stairs. When he reached the guard room, his heart sank even lower.

The elves had taken the walls, but a knot of brave men jabbed pikes at the doorway towards the walls keep them out. However as he charged over to help, he saw two men fall with slashes on their faces. He grabbed a pike from a downed man and joined the battle. The elfs move faster than he thought possible and the men's blows stopped dead just before hitting them. But the elves weren't invulnerable.

Lashing out in all of his strength, Jarad stabbed, bellowing, at an elf and pierced it through.

" _Ha! Got one of them!"_ He thought with satisfaction.

Another took its' place almost before he finished the thought. It glared at Gerard in fury. It yelled in fury at the loss of the other elf. But before it could take Gerard's head off, an enormous roar caused all to pause.

Thorn, the great ruby dragon soared overhead. Jarad cheered with the rest of the warriors around him. But the cheer died quickly when he saw the golden dragon headed to intercept Thorn. It absolutely dwarfed Thorn, at least triple the size. Hope sparked once again as he noticed the dragon's left foreleg was missing. The two flew up and up, while on those on the ground stared dumbstruck as they spiraled away. Jarad took the moment to stab at the elf. It reacted just in time to grab the shaft of the spear and vault him over the wall.

As Gerard hurtled down he had just enough time to wail at himself, " _I've failed!"_ Then, just as he was about to hit the stone he stopped dead. He couldn't move. But he did hear the outraged howl of the Golden wounded Dragon.

Next, he heard the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. The voice floated over him, wrapping him up in it like a thick, warm blanket. What the voice said he knew not. Only that soon the voice changed to a horrible one. This voice filled him with fear. It was punctuated by a deafening roar from the gold dragon. As the dragon roared he fell the remaining few inches onto his face. As he looked up, he saw the gold dragon diving towards the elven army, a comet's tail of blood shooting behind it. As he watched, dumbstruck, a flash of gold fell towards him.

With a start and a yelp, he dove out of it's path. He was glad he did. A pure golden sword fell and clattered just before him. He cautiously approached it, looking up for other weapons to fall and kill him. Before he could touch it, he saw the golden dragon turn around, and fly straight at the Thorn. Soon it disappeared into the smoke. As he watched he muttered,

"Kill the beast, Come on kill that cripple,"

A few moments later a, triumphant roar sounded from above, accompanied by the falling body of a dragon. A golden body. As the dragon fell, Jarard grabbed the the sword before diving out of the way as the body of the dragon landed next to him with a huge boom. Jarard was propelled forward by the force of impact. As he looked back, he saw Thorn and Murtagh land on the body of the dragon. As the three beings looked at one another, Jarard noted,

"Nice kill, sir." Murtagh nodded grimly and held out his hand. "The sword, if you would." Murtagh said as he held out his hand. Jarard handed it to him. Murtagh took it. He stared at Jarard.

"What is your name, Soldier?"

"Jarard sir." Jarard replied. Murtagh nodded and flew off.

Jarard looked up at the battle raging on the wall. He new that if he stayed, the elves would kill him. He ran home and jumped on his horse. He rode out the back gate of Gil'ead, which the elves had left alone, and fled south to Belatona. His family, he knew would be waiting.

 **This is short, I know. The next chapter will be much longer.**

 **Doodl on, My friends,**

 **Spencerdoodl.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is twelve years later. Jaeden is 14.**

Chapter 2

Jaeden got up from his bed and his first thought was, " _It's parade day. Let's get this over with."_ Jaeden crossed his room and dressed in his finest dark brown tunic and leggings. As the son of a soldier and a merchant, he could have a second set of clothes, though many of his friends could not. After he finished dressing he left his room. As he left his room he paused to check his appearance in the mirror. His hazel eyes and dark hair stared back. He walked down the short hallway to the kitchen.

His sister and mother were already sitting there. His father having already left for the walls. His sister, Ariata, was 12 years of age, 2 younger than Jaeden and wearing her best red hair was the color of an almond and tumbled down her back. Her skin tanned from the countless hours of playing out side in the trees that lined the streets Belatona. She was eating porridge as quick as she could without sullying her dress.

Jaeden's mother, Marna, was wearing a plain black dress that ended at her knees. Her hair was red as Ariata's dress.

"Slow down or else you will ruin your dress, dear." Marna said to Ariata then she noticed Jaeden. "You're awake. Good. The riders will be here soon. Once you are done with breakfast, run to the square before the you miss them.

"Yes mother." Ariata replied leaving her empty bowl. Jaeden ate in the span of 5 minutes. As soon as he finished, he left at a run, Ariata at his heels. As they neared the town square, they heard a large crowd.

As the square came into view, they saw the line of children walking single-file past a wooden platform. On the platform sat a purple egg the size of a child's head. The egg rested in a small indent lined in velvet. The whole thing was flanked by a score of soldiers carrying spears.

"Come on, we can get a spot at the end." Jaeden said. Ariata nodded eager to see if she would have the egg hatch for her. " _She doesn't know it won't hatch for her."_ Jaeden thought sadly. He vividly remembered his first time in the parade. The disappointment of the egg staying still.

Ariata joined the end of the line. Jaeden followed on her heels. An hour passed as the line moved slowly past the egg. Ariata walked to the egg and put her hand on the egg like every other child before her, paused for a moment waiting. Then she frowned, and continued on disappointed.

" _She doesn't realize that none of them hatch anyway."_ Jaeden thought. Next he walked up to the egg. He extended his hand and touched the egg for a few seconds. He had just turned his back on the egg, when he thought he heard a faint squeak. Turning back, he saw the egg was wobbling.

Jaeden watched in wonder as a small crack appeared. A few soldiers called for him to keep moving, but he couldn't, he couldn't talk or speak.

" Move along, boy." The closer guard said, then he looked at the egg and stopped.

" By the gods! " The man shouted. Then he raised his voice.

" Stop! Stop all of you peasants and rejoice for one your brethren has been chosen. We have found a Rider!" The soldier then turned to Jaeden. "What is your name?"

"J-Jaeden Jarardsson." The soldier laughed.

"Well my boy, you have been given an immense honor." Jaeden hardly noticed though. He was watching the egg hatch. As the rich purple cracks spread across the surface of the egg, he saw a tiny head appear. The dragon egg then burst suddenly apart.

The dragon was the size of a small cat. Its head was angular and it had wings but other than that it was built like a cat. Its wings were outspread and were as wide as the dragon was long.

He tentatively stretched his hand out to touch the dragon on the head with his left hand. As soon as he did so many things happened to him at once, that he didn't know what to do. A shock went through his body and left him numb. His mind opened up to the world. He felt the minds and thoughts of all around him. This unnerved him. He cried out. Then suddenly he could move. He retreated in himself and the odd feeling disappeared. However he could still the primitive thoughts of the dragon. He got the impression of contentedness to be out of the egg.

 **I realize that this is short. I'm trying to make these chapters longer.**

 **Thank you, Fredo 747 for my first review ever.**

 **Doodl on, My friends,**

 **Spencerdoodl.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it's taken so long. I've been busy with school. I don't own The Inheritance Cycle. Christopher Paolini and Knopf publishing does.**

Jaeden recovered enough from the mental and physical shock to register his surroundings, he realized he had a silver oval shape design on his left palm. He stared, transfixed at it for a moment until the dragon nipped at his hand. He realised that his mind was still able to hear the dragons thoughts. The poor thing was hungry.

"Do you have any food for it?" Jaeden asked the guard next to him, who was still shouting about the dragons.

"Sorry what was that?" the soldier asked.

"Do you have any food-" but he was cut off by his sister, Ariata running up to him and hugging him fiercely.

"You're a Rider, Jaeden! A Dragon Rider…" Ariata chattered on and on, exited. Jaeden repeated the question to the guard, but was not heard.

Finally, in anger and frustration, he opened his mind and screamed the question with his mind. The guards and children all winced as his mental shout reverberated in their minds. Even Ariata halted. The guard was silent. Then he beckoned with his hand to follow him.

Jaeden scooped up the dragon and followed the guard, Ariata at his heels. They walked to the palace in the middle of Belatona. The palace looked was more a castle then a palace. It was tall and made of dark gray stone. And a wall of stone protected it.

But it wasn't the thickest walls, as the Varden noticed when they knocked through it like it was paper. It was also not nearly as strong as it seemed. A group of workers still labored to repair the damage to the wall knocked over by the Varden in their campaign. The wall was nearly finished, only the topmost twenty feet or so was still missing.

Jaeden held his dragon in his arms as he followed the guards to the gates. They opened when the guards called their brethren inside to do so. Jaeden stepped forth, and the dragon squirmed. Jaeden tried to keep it in his arms, but it fell to the floor. The thing righted itself and stood at Jaeden's heels.

Jaeden shrugged and continued on through the room. It was big and richly decorated, he was sure. But his eyes were for the end of the hall. Three pure white horses stood, and beside them three elven men stood together, staring at Jaeden. Or more accurately, at the dragon in his arms. The elves bowed to Jaeden and the dragon. Jaeden didn't know whether to bow or not. But the elves didn't seem upset by his lack of movement. The middle elf was tall, pale, and had long black hair that tumbled down his back. He put two fingers to his lips and said something that Jaeden didn't catch. He did however bow, knowing somehow the elf had just honored him in some way. The other elves did the same as the middle elf. They both had startlingly blond hair. Like a piece of the moon. Then the dark haired elf spoke,

"Greetings young rider. I am Vanir and these are my two companions, Kinsi and Slinthri. We are very honored by your presence. What is your name?" Jaeden just looked at the elf, trying to understand why anyone would be honored by his presence. Then again, he looked down at his dragon. But he pretended not to realise this.

"Jaeden." Jaeden said.

"Jaeden, you will be escorted to the new home of the riders, Nyr Verold. Take joy from this, human, you will be among legends."

"And of my family? I am but a boy. Shall I just leave them?"

"You will leave them, but not without a proper farewell. We will give you an hour, but soon we must ride. What shall you name your Dragon?"

Jaeden thought of this, then remembered the feeling of the dragon.

"Food."

Vanir scowled "You intend to name your partner in mind and spirit 'food'?"

Jaeden laughed and shook his head. "No, but my dragon is hungry. Do you have any food." Vanir nodded and said. "In the bag by our horses. But you must get it yourself, I find it distasteful to touch it." Jaeden shrugged and put the dragon down. He strode to the indicated bag. He opened it and reached inside. He withdrew a handful of dried strips of meat. He took it to his dragon, who, once it smelled the meat it ran over to intercept. The elves all withdrew slightly from the sight. Jaeden noticed this, and stored it for later.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN/: Sorry for the wait. On to the chapter. I don't own IC. If only I did. The books would be much shorter and of worse quality than how they are now.**

Jaeden was back home in their sitting room, his dragon snoozing in his lap. He would have left it outside, all it did was remind him of the fact that he walked a different path from them, but the dragon simply butted it's head against the door until it was opened. Ariata was crying, as was his mother, but they were smiling. His father, a tall man that was as to Jaeden as a tree is to a sapling, was beaming but was on the edge of tears. Jaeden himself was tearing up himself, but held himself together.

For the life of him, Jaeden couldn't recall what they said, but that was irrelevant. What he could remember was at the end of his hour, his father ran upstairs, and came back with a small box. He gave it to Jaeden who opened it. Inside was a small gold colored gemstone. Jaeden asked after what it was. His father smiled and told him the tale of how the golden sword fell from the sky. The stone had fallen out of the sword due to force of impact. He had kept it as a sign of the wonders of the world. Jaeden pocketed it and rushed to embrace his whole family.

He relinquished them only after the elves outside called out to Jaeden. Then he bid his family goodbye. He walked to the walls of the city with a crowd of silent people following him.

Some time later, Jaeden never could remember how long had passed, he sat on a small white horse and Slinthri was telling him four words to command the horse. How they trained the horses to respond to commands was beyond him.

" _And why do they keep pretending that the beasts are intelligent. They're dumb and simple animals. Damn Elves won't explain anything either. Like why they never use a saddle or bit. I'm no horseman, but I believe they are necessary. Or why they look like they're barely adults and yet reminisce about the old riders. They treat me like a child of a king. Politely, but yet haughtily."_ Jaeden thought in frustration.

"Dammit," he muttered to himself under his breath. Slinthri blinked twice in surprise.

"Please don't speak that way to Hester. He bears your weight. He does not need to bear your curses." The elf said.  
" _How in the name of Angvard did he hear that?"_ Jaeden thought. The rest of his day he spent riding the horse. They were quick, Jaeden remarked in his mind. Even his dragon flying overhead had a difficult time keeping up. By the time the broke for the night in a small clump of elms, they were past the Jiet River by a few leagues. The elves offered to help set Jaeden up his tent, but he refused, despite having no knowledge as to how to set up the tent. He just hated their incessant coddling. He eventually just draped the the cloth across over a tree branch and slept beneath that with his dragon in his bedroll. It was the worst sleep he had gotten ever. But he dreamt of a name for his dragon. Varme. He sent an impression of the name to his dragon and it was met with acceptance.

What struck him as strange was that the elves used no tent for themselves, but rather sat at the campfire for the night. And when he asked them if they had slept they replied with confusing answers about "Waking Dreams". This, combined with his low amount of sleep, but him in a sour mood. But what happened the next day made him forget all about it.

 **Sorry this took so obscenely long to upload. Thanks for reading Fredo747 and maybe one other person that reads this. Be back with another chapter later.** **Khoda Hafez, my friends. (Points for naming that language)**

 **Doodl on, friends.**


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